Page 68 of Truly, Madly, Daring

“Might I kiss you goodbye, Aggie?”

She smiled, still amused that he would not do so without asking first, for surely he knew by now she would never refuse a kiss.

“If you go away without kissing me, I shall punish you by not writing,” she said, attempting to look fierce.

“Oh, but that would be cruel, Agatha, when you know it would break my heart,” he said, giving her big puppy dog eyes.

She snorted. “Call me Agatha again and I shall stomp all over it,” she grumbled, though it was hard to keep a straight face when he pouted.

“Oh, stop it,” she said, laughing. “You big lummox.”

He grinned and then wiped the smile off her face by kissing her. Oh, and he was good at that, too. Perfect, in fact. His lips were soft and gentle, but not too gentle, firm enough to let her know there was more, but that he was behaving himself because he was a gentleman. He kissed her until she was giddy and clinging to him. When he let her go at last, she could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

“Oh,” she managed, and by the time she had enough self-control to open her eyes, it was to see him looking pleased with himself. “Stop looking so smug.”

“Can’t,” he said, preening.

“You are perfectly horrid,” she said with a sigh.

“And you adore me.”

“I do. It’s hopeless.”

The sound of wheels on gravel and the deep, booming voices of England’s finest young men stirred Aggie from her little happy daze.

“You’d best go,” she said, giving him a little push. “Or they’ll come looking for you.”

“Won’t you come and speak to them?”

“No, thank you,” she said politely, refraining from telling him she’d rather stick pins in her eyes than spend a moment with his awful friends.

“But I want to show you off. I’m a lucky devil, you see, and I want them all to know it.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Now, run along and be a clever fellow, and do it quickly so you can come home again.”

“All right, then,” he said, gazing at her. “You will write to me?”

“Yes.”

“Every day?”

“Certainly not.”

He pouted.

“Every other day is quite sufficient,” she said, trying to look severe and failing miserably because he was adorable, and she was in a sorry way and no mistake.

“Very well, you cruel, cruel woman. But they had better be long letters, with lots of swooning and descriptions of how pitiful you are without me.”

He stole another kiss and hurried out of the library. Aggie moved to the window and looked down to see the louts waiting for him outside. As Fred appeared, they gave a cheer that could have woken the dead, and Aggie cracked open the window to get a better look. There was a good deal of backslapping and friendly punching. She rolled her eyes. Men were odd creatures.

Two footmen hefted Fred’s trunk out to the waiting carriage and fastened it in place with the others.

“Oh, devil take it. I forgot that blasted essay old Carter asked for. I was trying to finish it this morning,” Fred cursed.

“Don’t tell me you left it to the last minute? Not like you,” remarked a big, burly fellow Aggie recognised as Mr Algernon Scrivener.

Fred shrugged, grinning. “I had other things on my mind. Anyway, I’d best run and grab it. Don’t go without me.”